


Scars

by daydreamer2100



Series: Ezio and Sofia. [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family, FightMe, Fluff, Intimacy, Light Angst, Love, Scars, afterrevelations, ezioandsofianeedmorefics, happy couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamer2100/pseuds/daydreamer2100
Summary: After the craziness of a new baby, Ezio and Sofia finally find some time for themselves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!
> 
> Sorry for vanishing from the face of the earth, but I began the semester and it's been pretty hectic. Thank you all for all the comments I've read! and I'm very sorry for not answering them (I just tuned back in and saw them). 
> 
> So, finally... FINALLY, I managed to write something I liked and had time to finish it, so here it is. 
> 
> Again, I'm sorry for being gone for so long, and I hope this story can somehow make up for it.

After months of silent stillness, the house suddenly came to life with laughter and light. Candles burnt on every candlestick and chandelier, the flames chatting amongst themselves in muted flickers. In the drawing room, a group of people were sitting on sofas, and chairs brought from the dining room. They talked amongst themselves in a relaxed manner, a wave of easy laughter rising from time to time. Sofia sat beside Ezio, questioning if the scene in front her was real or if she was imagining it: 

Leading the conversation was Leonardo, speaking with a youthful excitement that overshadowed his long white beard. Claudia and her husband sat next to him, listening in a tranquil silence. Besides them were la Volpe, Niccolo and his wife, and finally their visitors from Venice: Sofia’s cousin, Filippa, and her own husband.

It was like a dream, to finally have some company. 

After the baby was born, Sofia hadn’t left the house, or seen many people. She had barely left her room, actually. It wasn’t surprising though: it was normal for a woman to spend some time confined to her room after labor. Sofia’s wait had been longer though, thanks to all the complications she had. In all honesty, she felt much better after a few weeks, but the doctors kept insisting for her to rest longer. The only reason she complied was to keep her husband’s peace of mind.

But now she was free. 

That morning, when she finally left the house for her churching ceremony, Sofia was barely able to contain her excitement for being back in the streets and under the sun. If it was up to her, she would’ve just gone walking with Ezio and skipped the church, but tradition was tradition, she supposed. Thankfully, it was a quick ceremony.

“Sofia,” Filippa brought her back to reality, “are you alright?”

She turned to look at her. Filippa was an older woman nearing her fifties. In her youth, she had been a beauty: with hair even redder and shinier than Sofia’s, with deep brown eyes and porcelain skin. But now, time had taken its toll, stealing the redness of her hair, the light from her eyes, even withering her smooth skin.

“Yes, cousin,” she replied, “I’m fine… just excited to be back.”

The woman smiled. “Yes, this day is very exciting,” she nodded, looking at Claudia sitting across the room. “I was overjoyed after my churching too, weren’t you?”

Claudia glanced at the cousin with a sly smile. “I never had a churching,” she explained, “I just left the house when I felt like it.”

Filippa’s eyes widened in dismay, but only for a moment, and she chuckled tightly. “Well, I suppose not all families value tradition as much as we do. For us Sartors, it’s a great honor and source of happiness to be welcomed back in society as mothers.”

Claudia’s eyes flickered with amusement. “I suppose I missed out then,” she said in a sarcastic tone only those who knew her picked up on.

Sofia held in a chuckle, turning her face towards Ezio with amusement. He was trying to hide his smile by scratching his beard, but he wasn’t fooling her. He caught her staring and let out a chuckle when she shook her head playfully. He laughed and leaned onto her, kissing her lips tenderly.

Her cousin's alarmed eyes landed on them as soon as he did. Ezio caught her staring and sat up, clearing his throat and going back to the conversation. Sofia sighed, turning to the empty food platter in the table nearby. They had gotten through it faster than she thought possible. She picked it up. “I’ll be back,” she said.

She left the room and went back into the kitchen, picking up a new platter. She was fixing everything on it when she heard a set of familiar steps creaking on the doorway. She kept going as if she hadn’t heard, a smile growing on her face as he got closer. Ezio stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. Sofia reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair, resting her head against his and kissing his temple. His warmth quickly filled her chest, making her heart flutter.She held him for a while, touching his hair tenderly.

“I’m glad everyone’s here,” she whispered after a while, “but… I really just want to go out of the house, with you.”

Ezio kissed her neck, sending a wave of electricity through her. “This was Claudia’s idea,” he whispered, “I had something else in mind.”

Sofia smiled, pressing her forehead to his temple. “What did you have in mind then, _messere_?” she asked in a soft whisper.

He chuckled, looking at her from the corner of his eye. He opened his mouth to answer when Filippa came into the room.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw them embracing, looking away with a mortified expression. _“Mi dispiace,”_ she said in a tight voice, “I didn’t meant to interrupt.”

Ezio let go of Sofia, kissing her head before walking towards the entrance. “ _Fa niente_ (That’s alright),” he said, “I need to go back.”

Sofia caught his hand before he could get away. “You never answered my question,” she said, loud enough only for him to hear.

The man looked at her and smiled. He glanced at the cousin quickly and leaned into Sofia’s ear. “I can’t tell you… it wouldn’t be proper,” he whispered, making her cheeks burn, “but you’ll find out.”

Without another word, he took her hand and kissed her, trying again to hide a satisfied smile at the sight of her flushed cheeks. He nodded at Filippa and left them alone, taking the platter with him.

Sofia watched him leave, trying to settle her heart. It had been a while since feelings like those had been stirred in her. That familiar, yet forgotten, warmth came back to her chest, filling her up with love and a burning desire. She had missed it. Collecting her thoughts, she turned to her cousin. “ _Mi dispiace,_ we thought we were alone,” she shook her head.

The woman shook her head. “It’s alright. Showing affection to your husband _in private_ is only natural.” She said dismissively,  “I’m here to tell you that the baby is crying.”

That shocked Sofia, who had gotten used to Flavia’s cries being the only thing to break the silence of the house. Apparently their little party had drowned out her noises. Sofia nodded. “She’s probably hungry,” she guessed.

Filippa followed her into the nursery, where they found a wailing baby in her crib. Sofia picked her up gingerly, rocking her in her arms. “What’s wrong, _amore mio_?” she asked, looking at her, “are you hungry?”

The baby continued to whimper as Sofia sat down on a chair next to the window and undid her dress. Flavia settled down once she started eating, her eyes bright and awake, looking at her mother while she suckled. Sofia smiled at her tenderly, tickling her rosy cheeks. The little noises she made filled her with even more affection, those little huffs and grunts always put a smile on her face. Before she could touch her nose, however, a blanket was placed over Flavia’s head to cover her.

Sofia looked up in shock, frozen as her cousin fixed the blanket to cover her entire chest. She tried to pull it back off, eager to see her baby, but her cousin wouldn’t let her. “It’s not proper,” she said, “you can’t be like that around the house, especially so close to a window.”

“But-” she tried to argue.

Her cousin held her hand up. “Sofia, I’m a decade older than you, I’ve been married for almost twenty five years and have eight children,” she said calmly, “trust when I say it’s best.”

Sofia wanted to argue, but she knew Filippa: it would be like arguing with a wall of bricks. She just felt under the blanket for her daughter’s face and began caressing it, feeling her stir. She just hoped the poor child wouldn’t suffocate.

“You know, Sofia,” Filippa said, looking at her with a tender smile, “motherhood suits you.”

 _“Grazie,”_ she replied, smiling at her, “I’m very happy with what I have.”

Filippa smiled, walking to her side and putting her hand on her shoulder. “It seems like yesterday we were in Venice, going to the carnival, and playing around the canals,” she smiled wistfully, “those were good times.”

The image of the acrobats, the music, and the masked dancers was always clear in Sofia’s memory. She could see them as if they were there in the room. She could see Filippa too, but there were no wrinkles in her face nor grey streaks in her hair. She also saw a boy, but she refused to acknowledge him. “Yes,” she sighed, “good times.”

“But then you left…” Filippa muttered, “all alone, to _Costantinopoli_.”

Sofia nodded. “You know I had to,” she said, “I couldn’t stay… not after what happened.”

Filippa nodded, looking away.

An uncomfortable silence ensued, the room filling with blood from still open wounds. Sofia felt a bitter taste in her mouth she hadn’t had in about a year, her chest suddenly tight. She wished Filippa hadn’t brought it up, but she had.

“I’m sorry, for what it is worth.” Filippa muttered, looking at her with a pained expression. “I was too harsh on you, it’s just that… you were hurting so badly, and everyone was talking about you and our family, and I didn’t know what to do… everyone was so angry and everything was so out of control… I suppose it got to me.”

Sofia looked at her, taking in the guilt in her face. “It’s alright, you meant no harm to me,” she muttered, taking her cousin’s hand, “I shouldn’t have let him get so far with me. I was dumb for doing so, especially after you told me not to… you’re forgiven.”

Filippa let out a breath of relief she had been holding for longer than she could remember. “Thank you…” she said, her voice suddenly louder.

A loud laugh rose from downstairs, bouncing off the walls and into the nursery. Sofia smiled, recognizing the sound of Ezio’s voice. She glanced at the door and then down at her chest, pulling the cover back just a little to look at Flavia, who had stopped eating and was beginning to drift off. “Your father is very loud,” she said in a high pitched voice, “let’s hope he won’t wake you.”

The baby stretched out, yawning.

Sofia smiled, tickling her chin as she settled down.  “Besides,” she said, turning to Filippa, “I have something better now… and I wouldn’t have it if it had been any different.”

Her cousin smiled. “Si,” she agreed, "nothing is an accident in God’s plan."

Sofia took off the blanket, fixing her dress with one arm and rocking Flavia with the other. Filippa came to stand besides them, looking at the baby with a tender smile.  “ _È adorabile_ (she’s adorable),” she said, touching Flavia’s hair, “looks just like her father.”

Sofia nodded. “He likes to point that out to people,” she said.

Filippa laughed. “He adores you two.”

“And we adore him,” Sofia replied. She stood up from the chair and began to pat Flavia’s back, waiting for her to burp.

“I’m very glad,” the woman nodded, “I must say, I wasn’t so sure of what to think when you introduced him to us in Venice… he seemed old and, honestly, a little rough, but it seems like everything worked out.”

Flavia let out a little burp and Sofia carried her back to her crib. She caressed her baby’s wisps of dark hair and kissed her cheek. Filippa watched her silently, a hesitant thought lingering in her head.

“Cousin, may I ask you a private question?” she asked.

Sofia looked at her, studying her expression before nodding.

Filippa’s cheeks turned bright red. “Have you… shared your bed since the birth?”

She had to blink a few times before the question really sunk into her. “No, we haven’t,” Sofia answered coldly, “why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to know since… well, neither of you are getting any younger and you still need to have a son.”

“We have a daughter,” Sofia replied.

“Yes, but you need to give him a son, all men need sons,” the woman explained, “as a wife it’s your duty to deliver that.”

As she spoke, Sofia began to remember why they hadn’t spoken since she left Venice. In fact, they had only rekindled their relationship after Sofia returned from Istanbul. And she was glad for that, she just had to remember how traditional her cousin could be at times, and how, for her, those lectures were signs of love… as annoying as they could be.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sofia nodded, “but to answer the question: no, he hasn’t touched me. He was afraid to hurt me after what happened.”

“A wise decision, really,” the cousin nodded, “the more time, the better… though I’m shocked he’s waited.”

Sofia looked at her, frowning. “Why are you shocked?”

Her cousin’s cheeks turned even redder and she gave her a cheeky smile. “He just seems to have a… well, how to say it… a strong _libido_.”

A loud chuckle escaped Sofia’s throat. She had to cover her mouth not to wake Flavia, chuckling under her breath. Her cheeks were burning too, but she couldn’t stop laughing. She looked at her mortified cousin. “ _Si_ ,” she sighed, “he does… I don’t think he’ll give me much longer, and honestly, I don’t want to wait much longer either.”

“Lucky you,” Filippa winked, “wish I could say the same about my poor husband,” she whispered, “the man is dead inside and out.”

Sofia laughed, covering her mouth. It was true: Filippa could be too proper most of the time, but she had a wilder side. She did not show it much, but when she did Sofia was always amused. “Well, cousin, you’ve asked your question,” Sofia said, “now it’s my turn.”

“What is it you want to ask?” Filippa replied, sitting on the chair next to the window.

“How did it feel to get back with your husband? after your first baby, I mean.”

Filippa’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “Well,” she stood up, fixing some rags on a dresser near the crib. “It hurt, but some ointment should make it better,” The woman used a motherly voice, looking at Sofia. “It didn’t feel the same either, but… all that fades with time.”

Sofia stared at her in disbelief. “Why would it feel any different?” she asked.

“Well, the body changes a lot after having a baby,” she explained, “we stretch much more than what’s comfortable, and that leaves a toll.” Sofia looked down, fixing her dress slowly as not to hurt her tender breast.

Sofia nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “I do look different… ” she muttered, thinking of the scars on her stomach and her painful chest. “Did your husband mind?”

Filippa shuffled on her feet. “Well,” she sighed, turning to look at her for a moment before speaking, “how honest would you like me to be?”

“As honest as you can, I won’t tell,” Sofia reassured her.

“He… well, he was shocked when he saw me… ” Filippa was trying to sound casual about it, but the shaking in her voice gave her away, “he didn’t share my bed for months after the birth… but he came back, eventually.”

Sofia stood in a stunned silence, her chest aching for her cousin.

“After all, he needed a son…” Filippa sighed, “his mistress could not give him that… not a _legitimate_ son, at least.”

The news slowly sank in. “He kept a mistress?!” Sofia asked, outraged, “and you did nothing?!”

“Of course I did nothing!” her cousin shot back, her face red, “what was I supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know… tell him to stop?” Sofia replied. Filippa scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning away from her. Sofia looked at her. “Why did you let him do that?!”

“BECAUSE HE’S MY HUSBAND!” Filippa screamed, turning around to look at her. Sofia took a step back, shocked by the sudden outburst. “He’s my husband… he’s all I have, and I must love, obey and worship him… no matter what… I cannot tell him what to do or not do, it is not my place.”

Sofia listened in horror. “I couldn’t fulfill my duties as a wife, I tried… I just… it hurt too badly and I couldn’t bear it.” A tear streamed down Filippa’s cheek. “He just got a woman so he could have some release, nothing more…” Filippa explained, “in the end I will always be his lawful wife.”

The silence returned after that. The muffled sounds of conversation were the only thing breaking the silence. Sofia wished nothing more than to go back to the drawing room and listen to Leonardo’s tales. She was thinking about that when Filippa caught her looking out the door. Something changed in her expression then, made it bitter and angry. “You pity me,” she hissed coldly.

“Non essere sciocca (don’t be dumb), cousin” Sofia shook her head, “I don’t-”

“Oh, but you do!” the woman insisted, a crazy gleam in her eyes, “because you are an old man’s beautiful, young wife… because you have a loving husband, and a rosy baby, you pity me: the old hag with stupid kids, and an uncaring husband."

Sofia shut her mouth, shocked. The look in her face wasn’t normal. She recognized it from the expression of some deranged beggars and prisoners in Istanbul, but it was terrifying to see it in her cousin.

Filippa gave her a devilish grin, making Sofia’s stomach sink. “Let me tell you something, baby cousin,” she hissed, “the blessings you so rejoice… I had them once too… most wives do, but they never last. You will be like me at some point, your beauty and youth are already leaving, Sofia, from the birth is downhill. How long do you think your womanizing husband will keep you around after you look like me? how long before he goes for a younger girl?”

That cut deep into Sofia’s chest. “Ezio won’t do that,” she shot back.

Filippa laughed. “Of course he won’t…” she snorted, “you’re foolish still, Sofia. You married an old man with a record of bedding every woman in his path, a son of a traitor, and an overall rogue… tell me, do you really think you can get that savage to change his ways?! Don’t be stupid!”

“Not another word out of you!” Sofia shot back. The coldness in her chest was burning her, a knot forming in her throat. “You will not speak ill of him, or me, in our home! I will not have it!” There had been very few times in Sofia’s life in when she felt truly outraged. Two of them involved Filippa. “I do not care if your husband does not love you,” she hissed, “I do not care if you’re old, I do not care about any of that… it’s none of my concern. If you don’t want my pity, I won’t give it to you… besides, you don’t seem to need it. You already pity yourself enough.”

Filippa gasped, eyes wide and teary.

Sofia turned her back to her cousin, looking down into the crib emotionlessly. “Please leave my nursery,” she said, looking over Flavia, _“now.”_

Filippa’s face was bright red and her eyes were still misty. “Have it your way,” she muttered, “but remember the last time we argued… remember who was right… just don’t come crying to me once everything crumbles this time, I won’t listen.”

With those cutting words, she walked back out.

Sofia let out a sharp breath, picking up a rag from a dresser nearby and tossing it to the other side of the room. The movement sent a wave of pain through her tender chest and stomach. She grunted, hunched over in pain.

She shook her head. “She’s just a bitter, unhappy woman,” she told herself, straightening up, “she’s wrong.”

And yet… the last time she had been right.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Ezio was beginning to wonder what had happened with his wife and her cousin when Filippa returned. There was something weird on her face as she walked in though, a stoic look that hadn’t been there before. Sofia was nowhere to be found. “Where’s my wife?” he asked, looking at the doorway in case she came in.

“Baby was giving her a little trouble to sleep,” Filippa explained in a calm voice, “shouldn’t be too long.”

She turned to her husband, who was sitting next to Leonardo, without sitting down. “My love, I am tired,” she said flatly, “should we retire?”

Filippa’s husband was a man in his late fifties by the name of Rodrigo. He was shorter than his wife and had a stocky build. His hair had been a deep black, but had turned ashen grey with time. He looked at his wife with his beady dark eyes. “Right now?” he asked.

“Si,” she replied coldly.

The man sighed deeply. “You go ahead, amore,” he said, “I’ll go later. I very much want to hear the end to the maestros’ tales.”

Leonardo laughed awkwardly. “Do not worry, _signora_ ,” he said, “he shouldn’t be long.”

Filippa was still arguing with her husband when Sofia came back. Her jaw was clenched, and she had a troubled gleam in her eyes. Ezio felt something drop in his stomach as she crossed the parlor in cold silence and sat down next to him. He took her hand, finding it ice cold. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Si, si…” Sofia reassured him, covering his hands with hers, “I’m alright.”

“You’re pale,” he insisted.

“It’s nothing,” Sofia replied, her eyes glued to the fireplace.

Filippa was able to convince her husband to leave a little later, and they were the firsts to disappear into their room upstairs. Ezio noticed how Sofia seemed to ignore her cousin as she left, and how Filippa seemed to have addressed everyone but Sofia when she was saying goodnight.

“Is everything alright?” he asked again once they had left, leaning over and whispering to Sofia.

She looked at him. “Si, everything is perfect,” she said, though she barely smiled.

Her odd behavior didn’t change for the rest of the evening. She barely spoke, which was odd for Sofia, especially considering Machiavelli and Leonardo were there. Usually she’d been going on and on about some philosopher, or another intellectual Ezio didn’t understand. That night, however, his wife was completely silent. She just sat there, staring at her reflection on a mirror across the room with a troubled look. Ezio reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. Sofia turned to look at him, letting out a sharp breath and smiling halfheartedly.

At that moment, with the warm light of the fireplace, Ezio couldn’t help but admire just how beautiful his wife was: her skin seemed to be glowing gold, her red hair seemed to have come right out of the flames, and her eyes… well, they dug into him as much as they always did. “I love you,” he whispered.

Sofia let out an actual laugh. “You know I love you too,” she replied.

Leonardo left, followed shortly by Machiavelli and his wife, and la Volpe. Then, about an hour later, they said goodbye to Claudia and her husband and were -finally!- alone. Ezio closed the door of the home and turned around, heading right back to the drawing room. He found Sofia cleaning inside, arranging the empty wine glasses to take to the kitchen. When she stood up to take them away, he stopped her. He took the cups from her hands and kissed her, grabbing her waist and pulling her as close as possible.

Sofia wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. Ezio felt his heart begin to race faster than it had in months. A wild urge began to take hold, fueled by the feeling of Sofia’s small frame against his. He began to kiss her neck, and found the same smell of books and tulips he had come to associate with her. It drove him insane. Panting, he picked Sofia up by the waist and carried her to one of the sofas. He was about to collapse on top of her, when she held her hand out against his chest. “Wait,” she said, out of breath.

He looked at her, his heart still beating like crazy. He still couldn’t get over the sight of Sofia in front of the fire with her fiery red hair. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her right then and there, but he held back. “What’s wrong, Sofia?” he asked.

“Let’s go for a walk” she said rather suddenly.

Ezio frowned, looking at her and then out the window. “What?” he asked, “now?”

“Si,” Sofia nodded, sitting up.

He tried to kiss her again, but she got off the sofa and headed for the door. “We’ll go in the morning,” he said, still on the couch, “it’s almost midnight.”

“So?” Sofia replied, opening the door, “I want the city and you to myself… now is the only time I can have that.”

Ezio got up and grabbed Sofia’s hands, pulling her to him. “You can have me to yourself now,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, “and for the city… I know places where no one will bother us during the day.”

Sofia seemed to toy with the idea, touching his beard tenderly. “ _Per favore_ (please),” she whispered, “I need to get out of this house… even if only for a little while.” She stood on the tip of her toes and pressed her forehead to his. “Besides… it’s still early, and we are in no rush.”

“Alright,” Ezio sighed, nuzzling her hair, “if it will make you happy we can go.”

Without another word, Sofia took his hand and pulled him out the door.

To Sofia’s credit, it was a beautiful night for a walk. The sky was full of stars and the moon was full, their pale light mixing with the fire of the torches placed around. He walked calmly next to her, holding her small hand in his. They didn’t talk, but that was okay.

“It’s like the city is sleeping,” Sofia commented in a hushed whisper.

“Si,” Ezio nodded, looking at the dark windows and the moon showered roofs. He knew the city well at this time, or at least he had known it well, a very long time ago.

_“Baby brother still has much to learn…”_

Federico’s voice was so clear it startled him. Ezio even glanced up, waiting to see him there, but, of course, he wasn’t. It was all in his head. Sighing deeply, he looked up at the empty roofs. He could almost see it, like clouds of smoke, him and Federico running up there… he could hear the laughs, the jokes, the taunts…  Just him and his big brother, disturbing the peace of the slumbering Florence.

How careless they were.

“What’s in your mind?” Sofia asked, catching his wistful expression.

“My brother,” he answered simply.

“Federico?” she asked.

Even hearing his name pronounced out loud after so long felt strange. “Si,” he nodded.

“May I ask why?”

“Probably the time of day,” he explained, looking at her, “before Federico-” he caught himself, “when I was young, we used to climb around the city, run through the roofs. We would see who could climb the fastest and jump the farthest. It was silly, two boys playing, but… I rejoiced those moments.”

“He taught you how to climb then?” she asked.

Ezio nodded. “He taught me just about everything, actually.” He looked around and pointed to the rooftop of a building nearby. “You see that building? The one with the big windows,” he asked.

“Si,” Sofia nodded, “what about it?”

“When I was fourteen Federico took me up there,” Ezio recounted, “taught me some tricks for playing chess…” he could see the scene clearly: Federico sitting in front of him in his new boots, feet dangling over the edge, moving a pawn and joking around. He accidentally knocked down a tower and it fell right off the rooftop, to their horror. “We broke a piece of the set,” Ezio chuckled out loud, eyes still fixed on the roof as the memory faded,  “my mother was very upset.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” Sofia asked, hugging his arm.

“There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about him in almost forty years,” Ezio replied, trying to conjure up the memory of his brother’s face again. He felt a pound in the chest when he realized that, although he could see him, he wasn’t entirely sure of how accurate the memory was. Sofia cupped his cheek and he looked up, the sight of her raising his spirit slightly. “And now… with you and Flavia, I wish more than ever that I could’ve saved him from the gallows, so you could’ve met him. I’m sure he would’ve loved you two very much.”

Sofia ran her hands through his hair tenderly. “Oh, amore mio,” she whispered with a smile, “I’m sure he does. Wherever he is now, I’m sure he’s watching… he always has been.”

Ezio felt his eyes begin to sting, and he looked up at the roofs. He wondered if, perhaps, she was right, and his brother was there… doing what he always loved: watch the world move from the rooftops. It was a comforting thought, really. But still… it wasn’t the same as having him there.

“I suppose,” he sighed, “but still… I would’ve loved for Flavia to meet him. He would’ve made her laugh… he always made everyone laugh.”

“Then we know now who makes her laugh when no one’s looking,” Sofia added in a soft whisper.

He smiled and kissed her forehead, his heart overflowing with affection for her.

Ezio was glad to have gone for the walk now. The feeling of Sofia’s hand in his and the sensation of having his brother so near made him incredibly happy. They walked ahead, taking in the cool air of midnight.

They turned a corner and went into an empty plaza, wandering around the fountain in the center and through the trees and benches. “And what did you do in nights like this?” Sofia asked after a few minutes of silence.

 _“Hm?”_ Ezio asked, looking at her.

“When you were young,” she explained, “what did you do aside from climbing with your brother?”

Ezio thought back, and the memories came in a whirlwind of drunken nights, parties, brawls, and girls…

“Let me rephrase that,” Sofia chuckled, catching his guilty smile, “ _who_ were you doing in nights like this?”

He laughed, nudging her slightly, but the amusement stopped when a pair of deep brown eyes emerged from the back of his memory, along with a sweet voice.

_“Oh Ezio…”_

He pushed it down as far as he could, but even there, it wasn’t enough.

Ezio managed a chuckle. “Depended on the night,” he joked.

Sofia rolled her eyes, slapping his chest. He watched her walk ahead, her hair glowing in the moonlight. In that light, her skin was milky and smooth, stirring a hot feeling in his lower belly. He watched her walk ahead without moving, taking in the way she swayed with every step. Eventually, she turned around and smiled at him, her eyes piercing his heart.

He walked over and kissed her, without notice or hesitation. Sofia barely had time to react, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. Thankfully, nobody was around, so they were able to kiss freely. Ezio closed his eyes tightly, kissing her as deeply as he could. In his mind, however, he was fighting against the memory of the brown eyes. And it wasn’t easy, a sense of grief and especially guilt took over every time he saw them, but he had learned to push them down to the hidden corners of his soul… at least for a little while.

Panting, he pulled back. Sofia was breathing hard too, her hands still tangled in his hair. “Can we go back now?” he asked, catching his breath.

Sofia swallowed back, looking at him. She studied his eyes before her eyes drifted down to his lips. He kissed her again, and she held him there for a while before pulling back. She touched his lips, tracing them with her fingers until she reached the little scar. “I want to see where you got this first,” she muttered.

Ezio frowned at the odd request. “Why?” he asked.

Sofia looked at him. “Why not?” she whispered before leaning in and laying kisses over the old cut, “I just want to know.”

The feeling of her silky lips made the hairs on the back of his neck stand, sending goosebumps down his spine. He kept his eyes closed as she kissed him, struggling with the urge to pounce on her again. Once she stopped, he leaned over her. “ _Va bene_ (alright),” he said.

Sofia stood on the bridge silently, looking around the empty street with curious eyes. “So it was here?” she asked, turning to her husband.

Ezio grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her to an specific point near the center of the street. “It was right here, I think,” he said. Sofia leaned on him as he stood behind her and he pointed to the other side. “The rock was thrown from that side,” he explained, “and it hit me square in the face.”

Sofia chuckled. “That sounds like it hurt,” she said.

Ezio shrugged. “It was nothing really,” he said, “just another brawl.”

She turned around, hooking her arms around his neck. “You got into many fights, _messere_?” she asked.

He loved it when she called him that… it drove him crazy. He gave her a sly smile. “One or two,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing her before she could respond.

When they pulled away, they were both gasping for air again. “Do you miss it?” Sofia asked, “those days… do you miss them?”

Ezio took a moment to think about it, still holding her close by the waist. In his mind, he thought about all the freedom he had when he was young, the carelessness and innocence. He thought of his family, his friends, and Cristina… long gone. And still, he didn’t feel the same bitterness he had carried for a long time anymore. “I do,” he answered solemnly, “I lost a lot, Sofia.” The woman’s expression saddened as he said that, and she took his hand and began to kiss it. Seeing her do that made his heart swell. “But I’ve gained a lot too,” he added, pressing his forehead to hers, “I have you and Flavia, I have Claudia and my nephews, I have my friends, and I have my brothers and sisters. I have learnt so much too, far more than what I would have if I had stayed here… and I couldn’t be happier for all of it. So, if for having it all, the rest had to happen, I’m alright with it… as painful as it was.”

Sofia smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way,” she whispered as she buried herself into his chest. Ezio held her, feeling her small frame inside his big arms. She sighed deeply.

“I think it’s time to go home,” she whispered.

“Si,” Ezio agreed, kissing her temple.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so, this can get a bit racy.
> 
> I've said it before, but I have a hard time writing more... intimate... stuff, but I feel like I have to challenge myself to go to the places that make me uncomfortable. 
> 
> That's not to say this is fifty shades of grey, because... no. But it has its moments.
> 
> Just a warning in case you don't like this sort of thing.

As soon as Sofia closed the front door, Ezio came onto her. She turned around just as his lips found hers and he pinned her against the closed door. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, a known but forgotten warmth stirring in her. Ezio reached up and cupped her chest, sending a wave of pain through her. “Don’t!” she yelped, pushing his hand away.

He looked at her, perplexed. “They’re too tender right now,” Sofia explained in between breaths, “is it okay if you avoid that place? just for tonight.”

Ezio’s expression softened, and he nodded. Sofia let out a sigh of relief, kissing him again. Ezio caressed her waist instead, holding her close. She tried to pull him towards the stairs, but he didn’t move. “I need to put out the fireplace,” he whispered, giving her a quick peck, “go ahead, I’ll be there in a second.”

As she stood in front of the mirror after taking off her dress, Sofia couldn’t help but hear Filippa’s words in her head. She _had_ changed: she had red scars around the skin of her stomach, she had put on a little weight, not to mention the state of her poor breasts…

She sighed deeply, reaching into the dresser and pulling out her nightgown. “With clothes then,” she muttered to herself, putting it on.

Once that was done, she walked over to the nightstand and took out a small dark bottle of ointment. She sighed deeply, holding it against her chest. As it turns out, the prospect of pain scared her more than she originally thought.

The door creaked open a minute later. Sofia held her breath, hearing Ezio’s steps coming towards her. She closed her eyes when he wrapped his arms around her waist and sunk into her neck, kissing her mercilessly. She gasped, holding on to his hair. His beard was tickling the bottom of her jaw, but she didn’t really mind. She kept clutching the little bottle, the desire and fear fighting inside her.

She struggled not to crush the little bottle.

He grabbed her hips and spun her around suddenly. Sofia almost dropped the ointment, gasping as she suddenly came face to face with him. Her fear, however, melted when she saw those burnt honey eyes. She cupped his face with her free hand, studying those eyes she knew so well. After all this time, they still drove her insane.  

Ezio smiled, pressing his forehead to hers and pulling her closer. His eyes drifted down and he saw the dark bottle in her hand. “What’s that?” he asked.

Sofia blinked a few times. “It’s just some ointment Filippa told me to use.” Ezio raised his eyebrows, reaching up and cupping her cheeks with an amused look. Sofia’s face was burning now. “She said it hurts…” she whispered, looking at him, “is it true?”

He caressed her cheeks and nodded. “It can hurt a little, yes.”

The woman looked down, taking a deep breath. “Well…” she muttered, “we have the ointment, so… it will be okay… though I’m not exactly sure as to _how_ to use it”

“It’s not hard,” Ezio chuckled and kissed her forehead. “But you have nothing to fear, Sofia” he reassured her, “I’ll be gentle.”

Sofia looked at him and let out a deep breath. “ _Bene_ ,” she nodded, “gently then.”

He leaned forward. “Gently,” he agreed in a low voice before kissing her again.

The kiss made the heat in Sofia’s belly grow, and made the knot in her head grow bigger still. She wanted him, but she didn’t want him to see her. She just wrapped her arms around his neck, caressing the back of his hair with one hand and clutching the little bottle with the other.

Sofia gasped when he suddenly pulled her off the ground. She held on tight, her legs dangling off the floor as he carried her to the bed. He dropped her on the mattress and she fixed herself to lie on the pillows. Ezio climbed on top of her, cupping her face between his hands and looking into her eyes. She was still clutching the bottle with her hands at the sides of her head, staring at him while her heart raced. She swore those eyes would be the death of her.

She barely had time to put the bottle on the nightstand before he descended on her and began to kiss her more aggressively than before. She kissed him back, clutching his shirt into fists. It had been so long since he had kissed her like that… she barely remembered how it went, but it definitely made that ache in her grow.

They were still kissing when he began to pull the nightgown up. Sofia gasped, breaking the kiss. “Don’t,” she whispered, pulling his hand away.

“Why?” he replied, kissing her neck. She sighed, the electric shock of the kiss tearing through her. “I want to see you Sofia,” he whispered into her ear.

“I-” she stammered as he continued to kiss her, derailing her thoughts, “I’m cold.”

Ezio chuckled against her ear, making her shiver. “I’ll keep you warm,” he told her.

Sofia swallowed back, the heat in her stomach becoming too much to handle. She wanted to take off the nightdress, there was nothing else she could want more, but she couldn’t shake off Filippa’s words.

He tried again, pulling it up and up, reaching the bottom of her stomach until her scars were barely covered. She snatched the fabric from his hand and pulled it back down. “I said no!” she barked, sitting up.

Ezio recoiled, backing away from her. Sofia sighed deeply, looking at his shocked look. “Please,” she said, “I’d rather keep my dress on tonight.”

“ _Va bene_ (alright),” he said, “I didn’t mean to overstep, _mi dispiace._ ”

Sofia sighed deeply, looking down and fixing her nightdress to cover even more of her skin. She knew he meant no harm, he thought he was being playful, but she was still annoyed. “When I say no is no,” she said, “don’t do that again if I tell you to stop!”

Ezio nodded. “I respect that,” he said, cupping her cheek. “If you don’t want me to take your dress off I won’t, but, can I ask why?”

The question caught her by surprise. She blinked a few times, looking at him. “I’m…” she muttered, “I’m cold.”

“You’re _cold_?” he repeated. Sofia looked down at her lap, the truth stuck in her throat. Ezio grabbed her chin, pulling her to look at him. “Sofia,” he muttered, “what is it? You have been acting strange all night.”

“It’s just that…” Sofia took a deep breath, “I don’t look the way I used to, Ezio.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Of course you do,” he said, cupping her face, “same beautiful eyes, same beautiful nose, same beautiful Sofia.”

Sofia smiled tenderly, shaking her head. “I mean it, Ezio,” she said, “my body… it’s different. It’s covered in nasty scars, I don’t want you to see them and feel disgusted.”

That took him aback. He sat and stared at her, blinking in shock. “Who got this into your head?” he asked.

“Filippa,” she explained.

Ezio shook his head, letting out a deep breath. Without a moment of hesitation, he undid the ties of his shirt and pulled it off over his head. In the candlelight, all the cuts and marks on his skin glowed pink and white. Sofia frowned, feeling her face heating up just looking at his skin. “What are you-”

Before she could finish her question, he took her hand in his, kissed it, and placed it on top of a scar in his chest.  

“I got this scar here in Florence after my first assassination,” he explained, “a guard slashed me.”

Sofia trailed the length of the faded scar, trying to imagine a young Ezio running away through the streets, blood pouring out from his chest as guards chased after. The image broke her heart.  

She was still thinking about it when he moved her hand to another scar near his heart. “I got this during the Bonfire of the vanities, while I was trying to save someone I cared about,” he muttered in a heavy voice, “I failed.”

The way his voice shook when he said that made her ache. The woman covered the cut with her hand before leaning in and kissing it tenderly, trying to, somehow, make it hurt less. Ezio smiled weakly when she did, caressing her hair and pulling a loose strand behind her ear.

When she sat up again, he guided her hand towards a scar near the bottom of his stomach. “The pope stabbed me here,” he explained.

“The pope?” sofia asked, smiling shyly.

He nodded. “It was an odd day, that one.”

Sofia chuckled nervously, but relaxed once he smiled too. Before she settled down, he guided her hand up through his warm skin until she reached a circular scar near his shoulder. “This one came after I was shot trying to save my uncle,” he explained, “I failed him too.”

Sofia traced it with her finger and kissed it tenderly, just as she had the first time.

Ezio then grabbed her hand and pulled it up to his heart again. “And this one,” he whispered, “this one I got while trying to get you back in Istanbul.”

She ran her hands over the fresh scar, imagining him running around her empty bookshop, and doing who knows what else to get her back. He must've been terrified.

Before he could move her hand again, she leaned forward and pushed him down on the mattress. She began to kiss every scar she could find, going from the bottom of his belly to the top. Her lips caught fire every time she made contact with his warm skin, but that only encouraged her to keep moving up. His chest rose and fell shakily as she did, his breathing heavy and bothered.

Once she reached the shoulder, he grabbed her face and pulled him up to face him. “All those scars,” he said in a heavy voice, “came from moments of suffering and pain.”

Hesitantly he trailed his arm up her waist and into her stomach. He looked at Sofia and she did not protest, allowing him to push her back on the mattress and lift her dress over her stomach. Sofia held her breath as he saw the red marks, waiting for his reaction. “I told you they’re ugly,” she whispered as he studied them.

“No,” he shook his head and before she could say anything, he leaned down and kissed her scars, just like she had, leaving a burning trail in his wake. He went from the bottom to the top, kissing every scar and imperfection he could find in his wake until Sofia’s nightdress was rolled up under her armpits and she was a shaking mess.

She breathed deeply as he lay down beside her, her face burning. He had seen her exposed a million times before, but it felt like if it were the first time again. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes as he began to trace her scars again with his hands. “Your scars, unlike mine, aren't tainted by pain, but joy,” he whispered, “I cannot think of anything better than to have a permanent reminder of the day we had our baby.”

Sofia smiled, her eyes becoming a little watery. She sat up and kissed him. She gasped when he grabbed her waist and pulled her underneath him. She ran her hands through his hair, her heart hammering against her ribs. Each kiss felt like a shock of electricity, making her whimper and sigh. They kissed for a while, and at some point, the use of the ointment made sense.

Sofia felt like she couldn’t breathe between the nerves, Ezio’s weight on top of her, and the kissing. She took a deep breath, caressing his hair. _“Gently,”_ she reminded him in a small whisper.

“Gently,” he agreed, kissing her lips.

He was about to go for it when she stopped him, pulling back. “One more thing,” she whispered. He nodded. “It may not feel the same,” she said, “it can feel a little-”

Before she could finish, he caught her by surprise. Sofia gasped, clutching his hair after he thrusted. “Feels the same to me,” he whispered, his voice cracking a little.

Neither of them could’ve fathom just how much they had actually missed each other. They spent the whole night getting lost in the other, exploring every inch of them with a sweet gentleness that made them feel more intoxicated. They loved each other until the exhaustion was too much, and they collapsed together into a pleasant slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end! I hope you liked it, and I would love to read your thoughts and opinion on it!
> 
> Thank you again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again!
> 
> Quick note, this will have three parts which I'll post as soon as I'm done proofreading. 
> 
> I hope you like the story and would be happy to read your thoughts on it. 
> 
> Thank you!


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